


Scent of a Prat

by aoigensou



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Kinkalot, M/M, Masturbation, Scent Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:42:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25933828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aoigensou/pseuds/aoigensou
Summary: Arthur is Merlin's prat of a flatmate. Merlin knows he's fit (he haseyes) but the thing that gets to him the most is the way he smells.Extended version of the second place winner for Kinkalot 2020 Main Challenge #1: Five Senses.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 162
Collections: Kinkalot 2020





	Scent of a Prat

**Author's Note:**

> *whispers* Merlin is a naughty boy, pass it on.
> 
> Having to cut this down to 1000 words to fit the word limit for the challenge was, as usual, torture. So here's the longer version. Enjoy!

The thing Merlin didn’t really understand at the end of it was how it all had come to this. He wasn’t stupid, though, he could logically see the steps that it took to get there. He just wasn’t sure how he let it get so far. He knew going in his flatmate was fit as fuck— their first meeting after Merlin had called about the room for rent had been a clusterfuck of Merlin repeating _oh shit oh fuck_ in his mind at how this man who was supposed to be his flatmate looked— and was self-aware enough to realise that he definitely had lustful thoughts of Arthur from the start. He was sure no self-respecting gay man, and probably a not-insignificant percentage of straight men as well, _didn’t_ have lustful thoughts upon first meeting Arthur Pendragon: Greek statue come to life and all-around wank fantasy.

He thought he had it under control, though; especially when Arthur opened his mouth and completely ruined the hot underwear-model facade with his posh, spoilt opinions about everything from politics to how Merlin did the washing up each night— it apparently offended Arthur’s very soul that Merlin hand-washed the dishes before loading them in the dishwasher, something about it being a waste of time and soap considering what the machine was built for. It was definitely enough to curb the initial lust Merlin had felt upon moving in with Arthur, but as time went on and they got to know each other, that prattishness had seemed to soften around the fringes and the biting remarks took on a playful edge that drove Merlin wild a year and a half into their cohabitation.

It didn’t help that Arthur smelled so _good_.

He didn’t even mean his cologne, though it had rapidly become Merlin’s favorite— he had been known to linger around the cologne displays in M&S whenever Gwen dragged him out on one of her shopping trips, dodging questions about exactly why he had his nose shoved alternately in five different paper scent blotter strips and the cup full of coffee beans provided to combat scent fatigue, trying to figure out which cologne exactly it was Arthur wore— it was _everything_ about the way Arthur smelled that set something primal and animalistic aflame in Merlin. Freshly showered or manky after an exceptionally long day in a hot suit stuck in a stuffy office, it didn’t matter. Arthur wore his scent well, and Merlin loved every variation of it. He couldn’t get enough of it, and sometimes found himself straining to catch a hint of his scent as Arthur walked by on his way from the living room to the kitchen, or when they passed each other in the hallway.

The worst/best was Thursday mornings. Because Thursday mornings were when Arthur woke early to go for a run before work. He would don his tightest Under Armour shirt, the red one that showed off his sculpted pecs that Merlin sometimes dreamt of tracing with his tongue, loose shorts over skintight black athletic tights, his mobile phone strapped to his arm and looking like a fitness model on Instagram. Merlin had never been known to be a morning person, but he made exceptions for Thursdays. Rain or shine, Arthur left the flat by six and returned sweating and flushed by seven for a quick shower before leaving for work. And rain or shine, Merlin was out of bed in time to hand a ripe-smelling Arthur a mug of black coffee and a very carefully-offhanded offer to add Arthur’s laundry to his own that day.

The first time it had happened had been a fluke of timing. Merlin had been up early out of necessity, needing to put the wash on because he was out of clean shirts for work, but couldn’t justify an entire load of laundry for a few shirts and pairs of underwear. So he asked Arthur if he had anything to add to make it worthwhile. The sweat-soaked workout clothes Arthur had tossed at his head as a joke had originally made him annoyed, as had the echo of laughter that followed Arthur to the bathroom. But as he peeled the disgusting fabric off his face and really caught a whiff of pure, unadulterated Arthur, the annoyance swiftly turned to a spike of lust that had left him with a cock that was harder than it had been in weeks. Maybe ever.

After that Merlin had done it again, then again, and again until it had turned into a filthy habit, waking early on Thursdays with a carefully-selected pile of laundry to have Arthur add his jogging clothes to, shamefully wanking as he tried to pay attention to the sound of the shower while burying his nose in the musky, sweaty crotch of Arthur’s athletic tights, imagining what it would be like to have his nose buried in the dark gold curls at the base of Arthur’s cock where his scent would be the ripest. Perhaps while choking on said cock, finding out if he tasted as good as he smelled. Definitely after one of his runs, to up the scent ante. It was his favorite fantasy, his own dark secret held tight to his chest.

Merlin’s hand pumped fast on his own cock, the tip glistening with precome that smeared over the red, sensitive cockhead as he worked his foreskin over it with each stroke. He felt the tightness in his balls that indicated his impending orgasm. Perhaps he’d come all over Arthur’s shirt, he hadn’t done it in a while and he liked the possessive, proprietary feeling it brought watching him wear it even after the evidence of his marking had been laundered away. He was so far gone that he didn’t realise the sound of the shower had stopped several minutes ago.

“That’s a method of laundry I haven’t seen before,” Arthur growled low and dark in the doorway of Merlin’s bedroom that he stupidly hadn’t secured, wearing nothing but a towel. Merlin’s eyes flew open at the sound of his flatmate’s voice, darting to the side to rove over the sculpted figure leaning against the doorframe and backlit by the light spilling from the bathroom across the hall, but he didn’t lower the tights from his nose. He was too close to finishing to ask Arthur how long he had been standing there watching him, or to feel the shame that was sure to come when his head was clearer.

“Arthur,” he moaned, closing his eyes and hoping he would simply go away. No such luck.

“I thought it was strange when you started offering to do my laundry every Thursday, but I never imagined something like _this_ ,” Arthur said, and Merlin heard him walk closer, smelling the piney scent of whatever designer bodywash he used through the musky funk of the tights. He jerked himself harder and faster, chasing a climax that was just at the edge of his senses, grinding his teeth as he panted harshly through his nose into the fabric of the tights.

“Oh _god_ ,” Merlin groaned as he came with a full-body shiver, semen dribbling down his fingers and onto the pile of laundry, splattering prominently over Arthur’s shirt on top.

“Fuck you’re sexy,” Arthur said, ripping the tights away from Merlin’s face to replace with his mouth, kissing Merlin hard while rutting his own erection against Merlin’s bare, trembling thigh. Merlin’s hand, still sticky with warm come, gripped Arthur’s hip just above the knotted towel and pulled him closer, the aftershocks of his orgasm still shuddering through him as Arthur sucked on his tongue. Before he could think better of it, Merlin dropped to his knees, tugged the towel to the floor at Arthur’s feet, and moaned at the sight of Arthur’s thick cock, hard and ready for him.

“Please, I have to…” he begged, his tongue darting out to taste the pearly precome the towel hadn’t quite absorbed when Arthur had rutted against Merlin. The burst of salty tang drew another moan from his throat, and he glanced up at Arthur who was looking down at him with a hooded eyes full of intent.

“Yeah, suck it,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “I want you to. Fuck, Merlin, you have no idea how many times I’ve wanked to the thought of you on your knees like this for me. If I had known—”

Merlin didn’t wait for Arthur to finish his sentence, he swallowed the length of him down, his fingers digging into the thickest part of Arthur’s thighs to pull him forward until his nose was buried in Arthur’s pubes the way he had fantasised about. The combination of his taste and his scent was enough to have Merlin’s spent cock twitch again with renewed need.

“Fuck!” Arthur exclaimed, leaning over to put a steadying hand on the wall behind Merlin. “You’ve been so bad, holding out on me,” he babbled. “We could have been fucking this whole time, but you had to sneak around sniffing my clothes like a pervert. You do this every Thursday, don’t you? Wank yourself raw as you shove my disgusting jogging clothes against your nose and smell me, don’t you? And you didn’t even have the decency to invite me.” Arthur shoved his hips forward, almost choking Merlin with his cock, but Merlin welcomed it as he redoubled his efforts to take him all. “As punishment for being so naughty, I think I’ll make you come running with me next week. Some exercise’d do you good.”

Merlin had been inclined to ignore Arthur’s mid-blowjob rambling— especially about running which was an activity he had less than zero interest in normally— and concentrate on the task at hand, but the thought of the two of them coming home after a hard run and having stinky, sweaty sex before soaping each other up in the shower using Arthur’s expensive bath products was enough to make him go cross-eyed with lust. He went harder at Arthur’s cock, moaning around his mouthful when Arthur threaded his fingers through Merlin’s hair to guide him into a faster rhythm as he fucked his mouth.

“Yeah, yeah, yeahyeahyeah, I’m gonna—” Arthur broke off as he groaned his orgasm, cock pulsing as he came down Merlin’s throat. Merlin took it all, choking a bit at the end as he struggled to swallow. When he pulled off Arthur’s softening cock, a trail of saliva and come followed his lips. He licked them, savoring the salty-bitter flavor of it as he pressed the heel of his hand against his own cock, still quite sensitive from his own orgasm minutes before.

“Jesus Christ,” Merlin said, sounding hoarse and well-fucked. “I’m gonna be thinking of that for _days_.”

Arthur laughed, leaning hard against the wall as he lowered himself to sit next to Merlin, fastidiously avoiding the pile of soiled laundry behind him. “You’re quite the deviant,” he said. “Never would have pegged you for a panty sniffer.” Merlin felt himself turn red with embarrassment and indignation.

“Fuck you, prat. As if you don’t have some weird kink you hide from the world. Watch me tell everyone when I figure out what it is,” Merlin said, leaning back before he realised he was laying in his own cold come. “Shit! Eugh…” He shot back up and peeled Arthur’s Under Armour shirt off his back, making a disgusted face. Arthur rolled his eyes with a mocking laugh, but reached over to help wipe the mess from Merlin’s back using a clean corner of the shirt.

“These aren’t cheap, you know,” he said. Merlin stuck his tongue out at him.

“God but you’re a posh prick,” Merlin said, with much less heat than he intended. “What’s your point?”

“My point, _Merlin_ , is that I’d appreciate you not come all over them in future.”

Merlin spluttered, trying not to let the blush on his cheeks take over his entire body with the belated humiliation of the entire situation. “Please, it washes out.”

Arthur just laughed.

**Author's Note:**

> I would love to hear what you thought!!


End file.
